A village, a state and a city
by greygreenwolf
Summary: Go to Hetalia Academy. Should be fun, right? But when the State's military minded, the City's simply insane and the Village is the only semi-normal one of them... Perhaps not so much. And something's wrong at Hetalia Academy. Very wrong indeed... Collab.


Greygreenwolf: Hello everyone out there! Yup, this is a new fic. (Even if I should really be writing one of my other ones, heheheheh…) But this isn't a normal fic! No, this is a collab fic! With the people who will hopefully comment! I'm writing as Durham. So, um, yeah! Enjoy!

Gumi Takehara: Um, hey, everyone... heh, I'm kind of new to FF though I've been here a while. I'll be writing as Halling for the duration of this story.

Beloved of Eireann: Well, he didn't actually say anything, but he's writing as Virginia. - GGW

* * *

_Gakuen Hetalia, or Hetalia Academy, was known as _the_ school to go to for nations. It allowed them to pursue their own interests, build up international relations and - as their bosses privately observed - keep themselves out of trouble._

_States, cities and villages also had personifications. However, the damage they could do was deemed small. Therefore, they usually didn't have to attend this school._

_Unfortunately, several, ah, incidents made them revise this issue. If a nation deemed it necessary, then their children would accompany them to school. As you can probably guess, this story follows the story of three such people._

_Let's get started, shall we?_

* * *

Arthur Kirkland, also known as England, was not at all happy. This in itself was not unusual for the bushy browed nation. After all, his grumpiness was almost legendary in some circles.

What was unusual, though, was whom this anger was aimed at:

"Mark Thomas Sunderland Kirkland, David Allen Newcastle Kirkland, Anne Elizabeth Durham Kirkland! If you don't get down here right now, I will be forced to take measures!"

The three owners of these names cringed at the volume their father was shouting at. Oh dear… He wasn't just angry, this time he was absolutely _livid..._

Durham scowled, and scrubbed even harder at her brother's arm. The soot just wasn't coming off! "What did you two idiots do this time?" she hissed, giving a particularly hard jab to the brother who wasn't currently having his arm washed away.

"Ow, D!" came the whispered reply. "That hurt!"

"Think yourself lucky Newcastle; you're not the one having their arm scrubbed off."

"I want an answer!"

"Well, you remember that explosive you got us?"

"Oh, please say you didn't-"

"YOU THREE, I WILL COUNT TO TEN, AND THEN I WILL DO THIS THE HARD WAY!"

"…Sunderland you did, didn't you?"

"…Maybe."

* * *

The three cities stood in the middle of the room, faces turned towards the floor. England paced along in front of them, occasionally shaking his head. Durham played with the handle of her axe, worrying about what her Dad knew.

He finally reached a decision. "Would you three please look up and look me in the eye." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. The three raised their heads reluctantly, meeting England's calm gaze. Ugh, that was scary in itself... Everyone preferred it when he was shouting. That meant he was just annoyed. This meant he would have no trouble whatsoever in running them through.

He reached into his slightly singed jacket, pulling out a thick folder. "Let's see… In here, I have fifty demands for you three to be punished, three letters saying that it was a brilliant plot, seventeen curses from Scotland, a letter from my boss telling me that you three are a risk to national security, eight letters claiming that you're trying to take over the world and a request for you to become one with Mother Russia. Now, would you kindly tell me what you just did, or will I have to tell you?"

"Umm…" Sunderland said, looking uncomfortable. "I managed to get my hands on explosives. What did you expect to happen?"

"Yeah." Newcastle agreed, looking like he wished the earth would swallow him up. "And you always complain that world meetings are boring…"

"Yes Newcastle. Just because you heard me complaining about how I dislike world meetings does not mean that you and Sunderland should blow up the premises. How the hell did you manage to get three tonnes of explosives into the houses of Parliament? Saying that, how the hell did you manage to get three tonnes of explosives in the first place, considering that everyone knows that Sunderland should never be given explosives on pain of death!"

The two brothers looked at each other. "Sorry sis…"

"Thanks, guys." Durham sighed, slumping forwards. "Thanks a lot."

"Well?" England asked, eyebrow raised. "How did you get it?"

"Well… I might have gotten hold of some pictures… And I might have given them to Hungary…. So she might have owed me a favour… Prussia might have a stash of illegal explosives… From then on, I might have given some to those two. Until they came in covered in soot, I had no idea what they were planning." She muttered, looking down again. Mentally, she was sending illness to her brothers via brain waves. You don't just rat someone out like that!

England sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Let me get this straight. You managed to smuggle illegal soviet explosives into Parliament, set the charge, and get the hell out of there before getting yourselves blown up?"

Around the room, there were three muttered affirmations.

England seemed to have reached another decision. "That's it. I'm bringing you along to school next year. You might not cause as much damage, and could even learn why it's not fun to have to tell Switzerland why he was just blown up." Their father winced slightly before continuing. "Term begins in a week. Now get out of my sight. I'd expect it from you two, but you, Durham… I'm disappointed. Really, I am."

The three nodded meekly, before turning and walking out. They walked in silence for a minute, before a grin cracked across Sunderland's face. "You know what? We just blew up half the world."

Newcastle smiled, matching his twin's face. "Yeah. Best. Prank. Ever."

"I still don't see why you had to drag me into it." Durham grumbled, glaring at London as he smirked at her. "I could have got off scot free."

"Yeah sis… But, don't deny you had fun."

Durham smiled slightly, nodding her head. Yes… It was definitely worth it to see the pictures of France set on fire. Even if now they had to go to school with half the people they just blew up. Heh… This should be fun.

* * *

To put it lightly, Halling was not having a good day.

She had gotten out of the wrong side of the bed, and then face planted the wall. To make things worse, she had run out of painkillers, and the local newsagents' was closed because it was a Sunday.

So, no painkillers until tomorrow. Great.

Adding to her misfortune was a call from Kent saying that he couldn't come round because of work, and that he needed money to pay for the next electricity bill and he wasn't sure who else to go to, because everyone else claimed he wasn't working hard enough, and who did they think they were, accusing him of not paying them back! She put the phone down after that, and mentally noted that he still hadn't paid her back for all of last year's electricity and gas bills.

To put it bluntly, Halling was having a pretty awful day.

Halling sighed. Maybe later, things would pick up? She still had the cake she made yesterday. She had intended to share it with Kent, but he wasn't coming, so... It wouldn't be so bad; she baked that cake by herself after all...

Fifteen minutes later saw her nursing a cup of tea and silently debating over whether she really should eat the cake.

"Hmm..." She knew he was going to come around next week, and the cake might be stale by then anyway... but, she iced his name into it. Although, leaving it would still be such a waste…

_I'm not going to think about it anymore. I'll eat some today, and save the rest for tomorrow._

She got up to get a knife from the kitchen, when the telephone suddenly rang. The shrill ringing of the old rotary awakened Halling from her deep train of thought, and she immediately rushed to pick it up. "Hello, Opal speaking?"

"Good afternoon, Halling! How are you?"

Dad!

"Fine, thank you. How are you holding up, Dad?"

Halling struggled to keep the excitement out of her voice. Dad called her! He never called her! Wait. Hang on a second...

"Fine, thanks for asking. Listen, love, there's something I need to talk to you about..."

...and here she thought he was calling just to have a nice chat, for once. Cue exasperated sigh.

"Does this have anything to do with what happened last week?"

"Unfortunately, yes. You do remember that no one, under any circumstances, should allow Sunderland to handle explosives on pain of death?"

Oh, Christ. "Please don't tell me what I think you're going to tell me."

"..."

"Let me guess. Sunderland blew up Parliament, but he didn't do it alone or it wouldn't have gotten out of hand so quickly, so Newcastle must have somehow gotten involved. If both of them were involved, then that means Durham must have inevitably been dragged along, as her connections are probably how they got hold of the explosives in the first place. Thus, they went off and blew up Parliament, causing great destruction to listed buildings whilst also potentially endangering more than a few MPs and setting fire to various countries along the way. Is that the general gist of it, or have I missed something?"

"Yes, that's pretty much it. The thing is... I've decided to send them to Hetalia Academy so they can at least try to do something productive rather than destructive, but I need someone to keep an eye on them. Just in case they end up destroying the school."

"This is where I come in, then."

"I am sorry, but every other remotely responsible person I called seems to be tied up with work."

She leaned against the wall, fingering the embroidery at the edges of her poncho. "How long do I have to pack?"

"About two days. You won't need much, you'll be sharing a dorm so don't take anything of significant value with you just in case. Also, bring a peace offering. I don't know who you'll be sorted with, but it would be best to not get off on the wrong foot with anyone."

_A use for the cake! All I need to do now is redo the icing._

"Halling? You still there?"

"Yes, sorry, I'm still here, is there anything else I need to know?"

"You'll probably get there before they do. Try to act surprised."

* * *

Thomas Bielschmidt Jones, or the Commonwealth of Virginia, finished packing the last of his things into a suit bag. He counted his things. Four of his suits, his formal suit, some 'casual' clothes, Stonewall's cage, Sonewall-

"Verdammt, where are you, bird?" he asked the cardinal. Stonewall responded from the top of Thomas' head with a happy 'cheep!'

"Dammit, get down from there."

The bird flew down and settled on Thomas' shoulder, where it steadfastly resisted all his attempts to pry it free.

"You know what, bird?" He asked in disgust. "Stay there. I don't give a damn." He muttered to himself as he picked up his bags. "Capital of the Confederacy, I resisted Ulysses Grant for 5 years, und I cannot win an argument with my verdammt bird."

He reviewed the reasons he had to go to the stupid verdammt school in the first place. Predictably, it was all Maryland's fault.

* * *

_America had come in to Thomas' study while he was in the middle of a report for his boss._

_"Tommy, dude, I have to talk to you."_

_"My name is not Tommy, but talk away," Thomas had replied disinterestedly._

_"Dude, is what Maryland told me true?"_

_"Unlikely. He is a pathological liar."_

_America had frowned, indicating he was completely serious- an extremely rare occurrence for him._

_"Thomas. Did you replace Maryland's welcome mat with a landmine?"_

_Thomas blinked. So he _had _found out about that._

_"He was a constant annoyance. It had to be dealt with," Thomas had said unapologetically._

_At that, America had actually sighed and cupped his head in his hands. Thomas figured Maryland's usual idiotic resilience hadn't helped him this time._

_"Dude, you put your brother in the hospital. Most of his bones were broken, and the doctor says if he wasn't immortal, he'd be dead."_

_"Und?" Thomas really didn't see what his idiot brother had to do with anything, and he said so._

_"Alright, dude, I really didn't want to do this, but you're gonna have to come to school with me this year. It looks like I can't leave you here, or who knows what you'll do to the others?" _

_"If they have the brains to leave me alone, then nothing." But in all likelihood, that wasn't going to happen._

_"No, dude, you have to come. We're leaving in a few days, so pack up your stuff."_

_Thomas had stood up, glared at his father, and left without another word._

* * *

This brought him back to his verdammt bird, which was currently sitting on his shoulder and attempting to eat his tie.

Thomas paused to pull his old Confederate cavalry officer's hat over his hair, and walked out to the car.

* * *

Two days later, and Halling was fairly certain she must have broken the record for most bored person on Earth at least three times. She trudged up to the vast school gates, sighed, and walked through, pulling a huge suitcase behind her. It wasn't her fault, really, she just wanted to bring a change of clothes... that turned into half her wardrobe... along with her notebook, and her other clothes, and her shoes, and her laptop computer, and her accessories, plus the cake, and she really needed to cut down on stuff when packing.

She had had to get on a train to Hetalia Academy at four in the morning, and she'd been stuck next to some hyperactive three-year-old, who would _not stop tugging_ on her hair. He'd probably pulled out a few locks. By the time she finally got off he'd gone to bother somebody else, but it still wasn't dawn yet and she was feeling more exhausted by the minute.

Halling ran her left hand through her remaining hair and frowned. Every time someone had mentioned this place, chaos erupted. Surely that must be an omen? Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to come. After all… Durham could take care of herself.

Wait, no, forget that, Switzerland was there and he'd been set on fire. They would definitely need looking after at this rate.

A few minutes later, Halling pulled open the door to the reception and looked around. The lights were all off, and no one appeared to be in.

"Hello?"

Silence.

"Guess I'll just... check myself in, then..."

She entered to hall, using her elbow to keep the door open whilst fighting with her heavy suitcase. She gave up and just hurled it in front of her, then shut the door behind her and marched up to the front desk.

There was a thick pad of paper on the other side, showing a list of all the new transfers. Only one of the names had been ticked. Halling attempted to reach over and grab it, but it was too far away. She resorted to climbing over the desk instead.

Snagging a pen off the aforementioned desk, she ticked her name and signed the box next to it. Out of curiosity, she looked up to the only other tick and saw South Italy's signature.

"Eh? Why is he in so early? I'd have thought he'd be one of the last people to come..."

A quick check of her immediate surroundings, and Halling caught sight of a sign indicating that he was supposed to have been the one to check everyone else in.

One of the floorboards suddenly creaked. Halling glanced up, and saw him in front of the door leading to the dorms.

"Hello."

He looked at her and instantly started freaking out.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! IT'S A GHOST! SHIT! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

"Please calm down-"

"OH SHIT! I'M GONNA DIE! SHIT! HELP!"

Halling hurriedly clambered back over the desk and held up her hands in the universal sign of peace.

"Look, I'm not going to hurt you-"

"STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!"

"Furthermore, I'm not a ghost-"

"SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

"I said shut up and calm down already!"

He froze.

"Listen, I just want you to man the desk like you're supposed to and tell me where my dorm is and who my roommates are."

He inched behind the desk, shaking like a leaf, and flipped through the pad.

"Y-Y-Your n-name?"

"Halling."

"R-Room 305, o-on the t-t-top floor."

"And..?"

"Y-You'll be, uh, with... D-Durham... a-and, Virginia..."

Halling briefly smiled at him, then picked up her suitcase and headed off towards the dorms. She called back to him over her shoulder.

"Thanks for your assistance."

Eventually Halling reached the stairs... and then just stood there, and gaped for a few seconds.

_No way. There's got to be a lift around here somewhere._

She rapidly scanned the room before spotting a hidden door behind a potted plant. It was locked.

_Now, if I know how these things work..._

She looked underneath the potted plant, and nabbed a set of keys.

"Score one for me."

She unlocked the door, stepped inside, locked the door behind her and tapped in the floor number. _Well, maybe it wouldn't be as bad as I thought._

_..._

_Nah, that's just tempting fate. Best not to get my hopes up._

* * *

Virginia stepped out of the train at the school and reviewed his surroundings. It probably wasn't healthy for his mindset that the first thing he noticed was how that wall could provide cover for an infantry squad, or how easily a sniper could be concealed on that roof, or-

"Stop, Thomas," he said to himself. "Non-martial thoughts."

He went into the office, where apparently Romano had gone off to try killing Thomas' uncle Ludwig, _again_, and checked his name on the list.

"Halling, Durham."

He didn't recognize any of the names, and he didn't know any of them personally, so he shouldered his bag and walked out.

"Are you there, Stonewall?" he asked.

'Cheep!'

"Gut."

Thomas walked out of the office and out towards his dorm.

* * *

Yawning, Durham got off the train and stood in front of the cast iron gates of Hetalia Academy. She rubbed at a crick in her neck, wincing. Whatever your opinion was of trains, they were not at all comfy to sleep on.

"We're early." Newcastle grumbled, poking his sister. "Why'd you hurry us up?"

"Simple. I dislike being trampled."

"Whatever D." Sunderland stated, walking towards the hall. "Hey this place is bigger than the defeat Newcastle suffered at my hands the other month."

"You- You little-"

"Toon army went down!" Sunderland shouted, before running hurriedly away from his irate brother. Durham simply sighed, picking up any bits they dropped along the way. How on Earth those two got along well enough to not strangle each other to death on a daily basis would forever remain a mystery…

After Sunderland had mysteriously gained a black eye, they found their way to the reception. No one manned the office, but a post stick note was stuck on front of an extremely thick pad of paper. It read as such: "Have gone to stop the potato bastard from molesting my fratello. Work it out yourself, idiota."

"I think that Romano was meant to be here." Newcastle stated, sticking the post stick on to his brother's head.

"Well deduced." The other retorted, making use of his laser sarcasm.

"Peeps, stop fighting… Ah, here you two are!" Durham exclaimed, having been the only one sensible enough to pick the thing up and look for their names. "Oh, they've sorted us out already… That could be awkward."

This at once caught their attention. "Who are we with?"

"Strasbourg and Aberdeen."

The two turned white. "Oh no. Not that mad Scotsman."

"I'm yer cousin! Ge' usta it, cause ye're stuck with meh fer tha next year!" A highly Scottish voice boomed, before its flame haired owner came into view. He took a step forward at them, before quickly backing up because of a cursing Durham. "Oh, sorry there lass. Didn't see yeh."

"No problem Ab. How are you?" She asked, gritting her teeth. Now her foot hurt like anything…

"Ach, no too bad. Yeh?"

"Fine."

"Good. Noo yeh twa…" He cracked his knuckles, tone suddenly fierce again. "This is gonna be fun…"

The boys waited until he'd left to turn to their sister, who was still leafing through the pages. "We will never understand how you got him to like you sis. Never."

"We have... an agreement. Ah, here I am." She said, hitting the paper as she found her room number.

"Who're you with?"

"Halling… Should be fine… Oh no. Virginia."

"Why? Do you not get on with him?"

"Probably not. People with America's relentless optimism grate on me." She deadpanned, pulling the suitcase again. "I'll see you soon, right?"

"Right."

The two groups went their separate ways, Durham being trailed to the bottom of a huge flight of stairs by her dog. She looked up at them, looked at the room number that she'd accidently imprinted on her hand, and then back up the stairs again. Miners' strikes.

Their room was on the top floor. Well. This should be fun…

* * *

So, yeah! Hope you enjoyed it, please review, and stay tuned for the next chapter!


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